Of Motherhood and Moral Equivalencies
by lavendertruffles
Summary: A character piece w/ Regina ruminating over Cora's life, death, motherhood, and parenting. Some self doubt over capabilities as a mother (as all mothers have) and (hopefully) realistic processing of her past. Swan Queen established. Oneshot.


**A/N:** PLEASE read. Thanks. Reasonably canon compliant but they retcon things often enough that I'm not sure how much that matters. I think a continuity tweak since there were some issues with Regina and Henry's dynamic that just didn't make sense to me- and was purely tptb's decisions- so I'm taking some liberty with the writing here. Basically I think that Regina's use of magic on Henry didn't make much sense and I'm tweaking it so that it doesn't fall into the trope of "abused mother - so the abuse she commits is excusable." and she's a fictional character so she's not real- and it's not dismissive. I realize people have different opinions on this and there's probably meta out there somewhere but for me that particular scene was uncomfortable.

Emma is reassuring to Regina but nothing actually crossing into hurt/comfort territory. They are both Henry's moms so I hope I've struck a balance of neither taking precedence over the other.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> mentions of child abuse, gaslighting, and generally anything Cora did to Regina in canon- nothing extrapolated from canon.

Regina stood in the mausoleum, placing a rose lightly over her mother's coffin as she did every time she visited. Her visits were regular- Cora's birthday and her date of death.

"Happy birthday Mommy," Regina said quietly, resting her hands on the stone.

She sniffled and rested her head on the coffin, recalling her life with her mother. While her mother had been narcissistic and controlling, Regina had still loved her. Regina had supplied so much love- to make up for what her mother hadn't given her. At times she wished she could say that it was more than enough for the both of them, but it never had been.

While visiting she tried to recall the best of her memories.

The governess was the one to teach Regina to read- that was standard for royalty or those planning on becoming royalty. However, she did remember sitting in her mother's lap, begging for stories and being read to like any other child (that had parents who could read and owned books). It was different from when she had read Henry stories- tons of books designed for children to choose from. Yet her mother had patiently sat there and explained the books that were designed for adults and far above her reading ability. She may not have understood every story, but she listened.

Had her mother loved her then? She hadn't had a heart, so it wasn't the same as when Regina had settled with Henry perched in her lap, showing him the brightly colored pictures as she read to him.

Her mother tucked her in at night until she thought Regina was too old- Regina had tucked Henry in much longer and still checked up at him at night. She had missed being tucked in by her mother.

She remembered her first riding lessons very fondly- ones her mother had allowed her to do. She had bought Regina outfits to wear and had let her pick out her very first pony.

Her mother sitting and braiding her hair for her was also one of her fondest memories of her- it happened regularly so it was hard to remember one specific instance. Yet nimble fingers would work to create elaborate braids- it would always cheer her up. Though it was just as much for her mother as for her- after all, the future queen needed to always look presentable.

How much of what her mother did seemed like love at the time but wasn't?

Regina lifted her head up at the feel of a hand on her shoulder, her eyes meeting Emma's. The blonde had a scarf around her neck and her cheeks were rosy from the cold- she'd also brought a mug that smelled decidedly like hot chocolate.

"I thought you might need something to warm up. You've been out here a while," Emma said, gently handing the mug to her.

"Thank you," Regina said, sipping at it.

"Henry was getting worried," Emma said, sitting with her and rubbing a hand over her back.

"I'm fine," Regina told her, leaning her head against Emma's shoulder.

"What were your thinking about?" she asked softly. "You looked lost in thought."

Regina sighed. "I was just thinking about my mother."

Emma nodded, not sure what to say. She rubbed circles over Regina's back.

The brunette set down the mug of hot chocolate, staring at the casket while Emma sat in silence.

Her mother had killed her first love. Her mother had insisted it was for her own good- but it was always about Cora. Always. If she had known the root cause then she would have realized exactly how much difficulty her mother had distinguishing between herself and her daughter. It felt as if Cora wanted her to herself- didn't want her to share the affection. If she wasn't giving her mother attention, then it was a problem- which meant Regina loving anyone else was a problem.

Of course Cora had found her a 'more suitable' choice in husband, but she knew that Regina would never love the man, and even had plans to mold Regina to be more like her- so that her husband would behave as Cora's did, ever enabling and compliant to her wishes.

That almost hurt worse. Regina had no idea who she really was for part of her life- though she tried. Her mother treated her as an extenuation of herself and she felt as if she were drowning in the attempt to be her mother. Her mother thought she had the same needs and wants- entirely engulfing her life with her own.

When she wasn't condescendingly treating her like a good girl and perfect daughter (and Regina never got credit for that- no. That was Cora's parenting and her mother was merely proud of herself for how she raised Regina) then Regina was a problem. Everything 'foolish' or 'wrong' that she did was her own fault. 'Foolish girl' echoed in her head. How her mother treat her like a goldenchild and a scapegoat at the same time would never make sense to her.

When Cora praised her, it was as if she were congratulating herself. When she was punishing her, Regina felt horrified at herself.

When Regina pushed back, Cora had promised to change although that was just as much of a manipulative head trip.

It always felt as if Cora had needed her- and Regina had been dependent on her. Her mother was always deliberately manipulating, twisting the facts so that Regina doubted herself. She came back to her mother even when she didn't want to be enmeshed in it again. The gaslighting horrified her in retrospect.

She hadn't been able to run away from it

"When I took my heart out in Neverland, I still loved Herny. I love him so much- and I felt love even with it out of my body. I could see my heart glow. At the time, he was the only thing that mattered," Regina said. She hadn't been able to process this aspect of it for several years.

"I know," Emma said. She hadn't doubted Regina's love for their kid since long before they had started dating.

Regina was quiet again. Her mother had been emotionally abusive. She still had issues processing that her mother was physically abusive, but her mother had restrained her and kept her from leaving. All of that had left her psychologically a mess for a while. She wasn't sure she'd ever get over it.

Her bodily autonomy had been violated. Having her clothes removed and changed had been embarrassing, but at the time she couldn't do much to react. Clothes being chosen and spelled onto her body was more controlling than a mother should be- and the marriage her mother arranged had her of any remaining free will.

Cora's apologies meant nothing- mother knew best. Her attempts to help her- to do what was 'best' for Regina felt as if she were demanding the right to interfere in her daughter's life. She was keeping her in a childlike state forever so that Cora would always have a place in her life, and take what she needed- constant attention and Regina's love. Without childlike adoration, Cora was never content.

Her mother had wanted the knees of those she despised to crack against the ground as they bowed.

That wasn't enough. Cora needed power- needed attention that made her feel powerful. Everything was about power- it was her drug of choice.

Regina's attention had been power.

"When my mother died, she had her heart. She said that I would have been enough. I could have been enough for her," Regina said.

"She didn't have her heart before- she couldn't love you. It's not your fault," Emma said.

Regina took a shaky breath. "Emma... When I had my heart out of me, I still loved our son with every ounce of my being. I loved him without my heart. She could have loved me and she didn't," Regina said, voice quavering.

"Maybe it was just because she didn't have it when you were born," Emma suggested.

Regina shook her head. "I did everything I could for Henry. Mother... she was a narcissist. Everything she said she was going was for her. Even with her heart- she couldn't have loved me."

"I love you," Emma said softly.

"I love you too. It's more than enough. But..." Regina said. She sighed and rested her hand on the stone. "I'm just trying to get closure. I went through so much with her," she whispered.

Emma nodded.

Regina stared down at the casket.

She still loved her mother- she could never stop loving her. Now that she had distance, it was easier to let go- she needed to let go. Her mother was who she was.

"Am I like her?" she asked quietly.

"Like Cora? Hell no," Emma said.

"She was a terrible mother- but she just wanted what was best for me. Did I do that to Henry? Am I as bad as her?" Regina asked shakily.

"Of course not! You did everything for him- you put your fears about the curse breaking aside. You're did what was best for him. You're a great mom," Emma said.

"I worry about it," Regina admitted. She didn't have confidence in her ability to be a mother when she had just adopted Henry, and it had been shaken again when Emma had come to Storybrooke. Now? Her confidence was somewhat shaken- not entirely but enough to make her more cautious.

"About what? Being like your mom? You're nothing like her," Emma said.

"But I am. I'm always doing what I feel is best for him. For so long, he was the only person I had- the only thing that gave me joy in life. My mother did that to me and it's the worst thing any one person can do to another. I couldn't be myself or my own person. Emma, what if I become my mother?

"He's going to need freedom. He's not a child. He's going to want to date- and what if I handle his relationships wrong -not as bad as mother but still wrong. What if I can't let him go? I need to be able to let him go and be his own person and I'm scared I'm going to ruin everything like she did," Regina said.

"Hey- whoa," Emma said, wrapping her arms around her. "You're not your mother. You have me- you love people. You have more people in your life and everyone in town has warmed up to you. You're not centering your life around him."

Henry did have freedom- walked to school by himself, felt confident and independent enough that he had traveled by himself to gather Emma when he was only ten. There was an effort to give him that freedom she'd never had- give him a childhood her mother never gave her. She had held on perhaps a little too tight on occasion- and had apologized. Apologies didn't always fix wrongdoings- the intent to do one's best didn't make up for them either. Objectively she felt that she gave Henry his best chance- yet it was hard to know for sure that it wasn't overboard in either direction, too much freedom or too little.

"What if I still ruin him and hurt him like she did me?" Regina asked, although it was more to herself.

"Regina, you're not going to do that. Listen to yourself. Just you standing here right now worrying about it is enough- because you know he's his own person. He matters. His feelings matter. You don't want to do that to him. Okay? You'll be okay. You just need a little more confidence that you'll raise him right," Emma said. She held Regina close. "Henry believes in you. I believe in you. I don't know what I'm doing half the time either and probably goof it up more than you ever could. You just need to believe in yourself okay?"

Regina pursed her lips, still tense in her arms. She knew that Emma didn't realize that she might as well be asking her to realign the planets, travel realms, and save the world all by herself. It didn't matter if she had redeemed herself and didn't need a savior. How the hell was she going to believe in herself when her mother's words were so ingrained in her head that she almost didn't realize they were hers? She was never good enough for Cora. How could she believe she was good enough to still take care of Henry?

Then she eased in Emma's arms.

No regrets. She had to live that way. She deserved to be able to take a chance and she deserved to work on it- to avoid falling into the same patterns her mother did.

She pulled back slowly.

"You okay now?" Emma asked.

"Yes, thank you," Regina said, kissing her lips.

"What did I do?" she asked, completely baffled at how she managed to help.

"You were just here dear- that's all. That's all I needed," Regina said, picking up the cup of cold hot chocolate. "We'll have to warm that up."

Emma nodded, turning to leave the crypt.

Regina sighed and ran her hand over the casket. "Goodbye mother," she said, before heading out of the stone building. She closed the door to it and her past for the last time.


End file.
